Good Intentions
by FranticNonsense
Summary: With the first round of Wolves taken care of, Carol walks the streets to assess the damage. The peace couldn't stay too long, though. "Sam! Run!"
1. How Long Have You Been Rambo?

"Carol?"

She turned at Olivia's hesitant voice. The young woman couldn't even make eye contact with her.

"What's wrong?" Carol's gaze swept the area and her hand gripped her knife; her nerves were still raw after the recent Wolf invasion.

"N-nothing." Olivia stuttered, eyeing the knife on Carol's waistband. "I mean, obviously the attack was horrible and it- it was really bad. So bad. But, I was wondering, I-"

"Olivia." Carol's stern voice quieted her immediately and her spine straightened, as if she was responding to a general. "Just spit it out. What is it?"

Olivia took a deep breath and tried to look Carol in the eye. "How long have you… been Rambo?"

Carol stared back at her for a solid ten seconds before she snorted and gave a tiny smile. Olivia wanted to laugh with her, but was still incredibly nervous around this woman she thought she had known.

The same woman she greeted on her first day in Alexandria. And back then, she couldn't even pull the rifle over her shoulder without wincing. There was no way she could have faked the helpless housewife ruse for this long, could she? The same Carol whose top talents used to be making cookies with a handful of ingredients and sharing casserole recipes now took on the persona of a sharp shooting, naturally leading warrior-woman?

"I'm not Rambo." She broke Olivia from her trance. "I just adapted to my surroundings." The long-term Alexandrian nodded in understanding, still in shock between the recent invasion and the revelation of her friend being nothing short of Wonder Woman.

She smiled at Olivia again. "And you can too. The woman I was pretending to be? I was her a few years ago…" Carol's eyes flashed to Jesse's house nearby. She noticed Sam curled up on his back porch with arms wrapped protectively around himself. "I didn't think I could be strong, but I had to. And so do you, if you wanna make it through all of this." She took one of her many knives off her waistband and handed it to Olivia with a tiny grin. "These are good for tasks other than prepping an entree."

Olivia nodded eagerly as she received Carol's knife. A part of her wanted to ask Carol to sign it, but she held back the request.

Carol glanced back up to Sam's house and her heart dropped into her stomach and her legs started sprinting without even thinking.

" _Sam! Run!_ " Carol shrieked. She didn't feel her shoulder when she knocked into Olivia as she ran. She didn't hear voice as she continually screamed for Sam to get away. All she could see was Sam and a man lurking behind him.

A man with a bloody red 'W' on his face.


	2. Open The Gates

(A/N: So when I started this story, I didn't watch the most recent episode (6x05), so just imagine this episode takes place right after 6x04.)

Aaron's eyes became downcast and his tone quieted as he said her name.

It was then that Rick noticed Daryl leaping off his bike and tearing down the street, with Maggie close behind. Rick's heart skipped a beat as he turned on the young man in front of him. "Aaron, where's Carol?"

"Open the gates!" Rick called from outside the wall. Aaron sprinted over and quickly opened the door to allow Rick to walk through, followed by Sasha and Abe in their car. Daryl zoomed by all of them on his bike and flew down the street, Rick assumed to take in the town's damage.

"You guys made it back!" Aaron smiled in relief. He looked into the car and then gazed down the street to see if there was anyone else lingering behind. Or anyone else trying to get in who shouldn't be. "So the mega herd-"

"Taken care of." Rick stopped him short. "What was that giant horn? Is everyone alright?"

Aaron regretfully shook his head. "There was an attack- Carl and Judith are alright." Aaron answered before the question was about to urgently spring from Rick's lips. "Jessie and her kids are alright. Enid, Eric, Deanna, Spencer, Olivia, Denise, and everyone from your group before you guys left are…alive." Aaron chose the last word carefully.

"Who else came back? Glenn, Michonne…?"

"Michonne made it. But with only a few people. Her, Heath, and Scott were the only ones who managed to make it." Aaron regretfully informed. "The last ones unaccounted for are Glenn and Nicholas."

"If Glenn's with him, I'm sure they'll make it out in one piece." Rick assured him. Between the truck rammed into the wall outside and the few bodies he could see lying on the streets, he had to cut to the chase. "What the hell happened here?"

"I've never seen anything like it." Aaron recounted. As Aaron spoke, Rick analyzed the area. He noticed Maggie had flagged Daryl down and was speaking to him with a sense of urgency in her stance. He assumed she was also inquiring about Glenn's status. "These people, they were like savages. They climbed the walls and just started…slaughtering. There were no negotiations or demands. They were chasing after the kids and murdering _anyone_ they could find. It would have been so much worse if it hadn't been for… for Carol…"


	3. I Need to Get in There

Daryl burst through the entrance of the town's medical building and found Michonne standing in front of the door he needed to get through. He strode up to her as he spoke.

"Move. I need to get in there."

"That's why I'm standing here." Michonne answered firmly. "In case you guys got back before they were finished helping her."

"Michonne, I ain't playin'." His voice was soaked in frustration and started to edge on anger. "I need to see her."

"I know, but if you go in there right now, you could make things worse." Her tone was soft and understanding, but her stare was deadly. "The best thing you can do for her is wait and trust them."

Daryl was so focused on getting into the other room; he hadn't heard Rick, Maggie, and Aaron come through the door behind him. "You don't get out of the way, I'll move you myself." He grimly threatened. Michonne gripped the handle of her katana in response.

That was when Rick intervened "Daryl, I know you're upset, but if you don't _calm down_ then I'll have to remove you from the building." Rick said in quiet warning as he stood in front of Michonne. He kept one arm extended with his palm facing Daryl as a sign, both for him to ease up and a caution not to come any closer.

Daryl shook his head and snorted in disbelief. He began to pace angrily, but wasn't at it for more than a few strides before he was hounding on Rick again. "Man, you know that's bullshit! What if it was Carl in there? Or Judith? What if it- what if it was…" And Daryl let the question die on his lips as he realized he had taken a few steps beyond the line. Rick and Maggie knew the end of the question, even if he didn't finish.

 _What if it was Lori?_

"Then every part of me would be trying to break down the damn door." Rick answered honestly. "But I'd hope if that were the case, you'd stop me before I rushed in there and made things worse."

Daryl's erratic breathing slowed down and the anger gradually drained from his system. His anger towards the two of them, at least. He looked Michonne in the eyes as he muttered out "M'sorry."

She shook her head. "Don't be. I understand."

"Have you…heard anything?" Daryl gestured to the room behind her.

"Not yet." She sounded apologetic. "But I'm holding onto the belief that no news is good news."

"We just need to have faith she'll make it through." Maggie placed a comforting hand on his bicep.

He nodded in appreciation to the both of them, and his eyes darkened. "Where is he? The son of a bitch who put her in there?"

"He's dead." Olivia answered form the corner. Between his anxious worry and her silent demeanor, Daryl hadn't even realized she was in the room with them. "Carol killed him."


	4. What Happened?

"What happened?" When she didn't answer right away, Rick's voice gently prodded her. "Olivia?"

She sat in a large plush chair, but couldn't have looked more uneasy. She kept her eyes locked on the door where her friend currently resided. "She um…She was talking to me by Jessie's backyard…Sam was outside and this man…One of the guys who attacked earlier…He tried to get him." Olivia recounted. "Carol got her gun out, but the man was too close to Sam. She didn't want to risk it, I think, so she pulled out her knife and tackled the guy."

Olivia took a shuddering breath and continued. "She stabbed him r-right here," she placed her pointer finger against her temple. "But before she did, the guy, he…He had this long shard of glass and he got her somewhere…here." She gestured to her ribcage. "Sam was crying, the man was dead, and Carol was…was bleeding so much."

"Olivia started screaming for help." Aaron took over for her, seeing that reliving the event was about to give the young woman a nervous breakdown. "I was the first to get to them and carried Carol here. Luckily, Denise and Tara were already in the building, and Rosita was nearby, so the three of them started to treat her immediately." He glanced at the clock. "That was about an hour ago."

Daryl started to pace again as he processed the information. He couldn't go see her, nobody had any news about her condition, and he couldn't even tear apart the person who put her in there. He had absolutely no outlet for all of the fear and dread continuing to bubble in his chest except for walking a hole in the floor.

"What I don't understand," Maggie attempted to fill the gnawing silence with a query that wouldn't escape her mind "is how he managed to get past all of us to get to her in the first place. These people don't exactly blend in."

Aaron was quick to agree. "Yeah, from what I could tell, they all had a red 'W' on their forehead, mangled hair, filthy clothes, and the mannerisms of a meth addict going through withdrawal." He recalled.

"We were all on edge after the attack," Maggie continued. "and Carol and Morgan did a sweep of the town."

"Maybe the weaker ones wanted to lay low until the coast was clear." Michonne chimed in from her spot by the doorway. "For all we know, there could be a dozen more still here, just scattered around in hiding places."

"No, that's not how these people think." Aaron said with certainty. "They're like kamikazes. Even if the certainty of death is staring them in the face, they'll take that chance if it means they can kill."

"He might have been heavily injured." Rick reasoned. "When he finally mustered up the strength, he found the weakest target nearby."

"Naw." Daryl's pacing had slowed down a bit as he brainstormed for answers as well. "If he only had a little bit in 'im, he wouldn't of got the jump on…" He swallowed the lump in his throat. "She wouldn't be taken down by someone who ain't close to a hundred percent."

"It was my fault." Voiced a newcomer in the doorway.


	5. If She Dies

Daryl halted his strides and gave an unwavering stare to the newest arrival in the entryway, waiting for him to continue. Aaron's brow furrowed in confusion. "Morgan, what are you talking about?"

"Just now, I went to go check to make sure." Morgan's stance straightened as he took responsibility for his actions. "When the Wolves attacked, Carol killed most of them. I let a few of them go with a warning. There was one left with a somewhat serious wound. Bad, but treatable."

Rick started to walk towards him, gaping at the man he thought he knew. "You let them _go_?"

Morgan continued his story, unfazed by Rick's angry tone. Even as he confessed his good intentions gone awry, he sounded unapologetic. "I tied him up and put him in the basement of one of our vacant houses. You all just don't understand. If we separate them, and let them find who they used to be…I know they can be cured, I know they can! I never meant for Carol to get hurt, but they're still people, and we don't have to kill-!" Whatever his reasoning was, the rest of them didn't hear it because that was when Daryl rushed Morgan and slammed him against the wall with a forearm to his throat.

"Daryl!" Maggie shrieked and Rick tried to pull the furious hunter away. Daryl stood firm as he shoved his face directly in front Morgan's.

" _You dumbass son of a bitch_." Daryl snarled so hard that drops of spit made it onto Morgan's face. "These pricks kill kids and you let one of them stay here?! And didn't even keep a damn _eye on him?!_ "

Morgan tried to speak, but Daryl pushed even harder down on his windpipes. He attempted to shove and claw his captor away, but Daryl was numb with trembling anger.

"You say we don't have to kill people?" Daryl made sure Morgan looked him in the eye as he went on. "Well if she dies, you better be as far away from me as you can get. 'Cause I'll prove you wrong there."

At this point, everything turned to chaos. Rick and Aaron managed to pry Daryl away from a desperately gasping Morgan who collapsed to the floor. Maggie crouched down to check if Denise was going to have to see two patients at once while Daryl was thrashing against the two men barely clinging to him. Aaron and Rick were trying to calm down the hunter, but all he wanted was to beat some sense into the peace-driven man in front of them.

While all of this was going on, Michonne had her ear to the door, straining to hear what was going on in their town's makeshift operating room. There seemed to be some commotion coming from the other side of the door as well.

"Guys!" Michonne yelled to the group of fighting adults. " _Hey!"_ She shrieked.

Surprisingly enough, nobody reacted to Michonne's shouting. But something managed to get everyone so quiet within seconds that you could hear a shell casing hit the floor.

It was what sounded like Tara's voice from the other side of the door; she had worriedly screamed " _She's not breathing!"_


	6. No Pulse

"Shit!" Denise held ear over Carol's mouth and strained to hear or feel anything.

Rosita curved her forefinger and middle finger over Carol's wrist. "No pulse." She urgently informed the others.

"Carol, come on." Tara ran her hand over top Carol's forehead and brushed her hair back in a comforting motion. "You got hit by a damn car before this; you can't go out from a little cut." She felt the painful sting of tears starting to clog her vision.

"No, we are not losing anyone else today." Denise insisted and quickly gripped Carol's face and started to give mouth to mouth. After two puffs of air, she folded one hand over the other and started the compressions on Carol's chest. "One. Two. Three. Four…"

"She's lost so much blood." Rosita quietly murmured, eyeing the pile of scarlet stained towels they had used while stitching her back up.

"Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve..."

Tiny rivulets made their way down Tara's cheeks. "No, no, we just lost Noah. We can't—she can't-!" Rosita grasped her shoulder firmly and gave a slight squeeze. She shook her head with sad, resigned eyes. Tara hid her face with her hands and gave a quick sob before she wiped the tear streaks away.

"Twenty four. Twenty five. Twenty six…"

"Denise." Tara called with a watery voice. Denise put her ear to Carol's mouth again before she blew two more rounds of air into her mouth and continued the compressions. "Denise!"

"It's not too late!" Denise shrieked. "We have to try. I have to be able to do help _someone_." She looked back down to her patient and inhaled deep before she continued. "One. Two. Three…"

Tara glanced over to Rosita, who had her arms crossed in front of her, like she was trying to physically hold herself together as she watched Denise. It appeared that she was already accepting the worst case.

Tara twisted back around and tried to hold onto any last bit of hope, as Denise continued the compressions with no change in Carol's demeanor. Tara ran her fingers through her hair and gripped onto it tightly. Carol's face was ghost white, and with the blood _everywhere_ , she already looked like a…

"Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen…"

Tara's hands dropped from her head and it felt like her body was on autopilot as she dragged herself over to the table with all of the operating tools. She hesitantly gripped the largest scalpel she could see amongst the glimmering utensils. Even though it was no bigger than a pencil, it couldn't have felt heavier to her. With a lost look in her eyes, she turned to Rosita.

"How long until we…?"


	7. He Loathed the Silence

It was agonizing. Daryl could hear the chaotic racket coming from behind the door nonstop and then for a whole ten minutes, nothing… Nothing but silence.

He loathed the silence.

He had already chewed both of his thumbnails down to the nub and bit into his lip until he tasted the metallic tang of blood. He could spend hours tracking shadows of a footprint and days chasing a single deer, but these last ten minutes were pushing the boundaries of what his patience could stand.

Daryl was about to say 'to hell with it' and body slam his way through anyone who tried to stop him, but the door slowly creaked open, revealing an exhausted and emotionally drained Denise. Her eyes were glassed over and her arms were stained with red splatter all the way up to her elbows, making Daryl feel like he was about to vomit.

He had seen blood. He had been drenched in it until he felt like it could never be washed away from his skin.

But all of that blood…from Carol?

Denise turned to Daryl, and with a smile that could split her face in two, she declared "She's gonna be alright."

The celebrations were instant and gained intensity like a forest fire. Daryl wasted no time and flew into the room, but not before squeezing Denise's shoulder and muttering "I owe you one," into her ear with immense gratitude.

Rick turned and wrapped his arm tightly around Michonne, who responded with a hooked arm around his middle and a toothy grin back up at him. Olivia started to cry happy tears and Aaron laughed with joy at the only round of good news they had heard in a long, long while. He picked up a relieved Maggie and enveloped her in a loving hug that took her feet off the floor.

Denise could feel the pride and accomplishment flood into her belly and for the first time, felt a sense of belonging since the world turned to Walker-Hell. Because she was able to contribute something, their friend would live another day and all of these people had a reason to celebrate instead of lurking in fear. For the time being, at least.

That was when Denise noticed Morgan crouched in the corner, blue in the face and still somewhat struggling to breathe. She pointed awkwardly to him, as no one seemed to notice the pained man amidst all of their merriment.

"What, uh… What happened to that guy?"


	8. We Have Now

Carol had never been encased in cement. But if she ever found herself in that situation, she assumed it would feel like she currently did.

The once simple task of just stretching her eyelids half an inch somehow now seemed herculean to her. But the throbbing in her side made her second guess if she even wanted to open her eyes to gaze at her newest battle wound. There was a sad sense of accomplishment that she was able to continue the tasks of inhaling and exhaling at the moment. Apparently it was hard to bounce back from massive blood loss. It was also hard to keep conscious after losing so much blood.

When she was conscious, she took note of a few things, though.

She heard the occasional bustle of Tara checking her fluids and Denise examining her stats. If they asked her any questions about her condition, all she could muster was a positive "Mm-hmm" or a negative "Mm-mmm".

And the two probably didn't realize, but Carol also heard the collision of Denise's lips on Tara's. She knew it was Denise making the move, because shortly after was Tara's chuckle and a murmur of "Let's clean ourselves up before things get too hands on, Doc."

She could practically taste the food that Carl had brought in for her. The chocolate chip cookies she had taught him how to make. "It's not much, but when you get your strength back, you'll need to eat." He had gently told her while she was half asleep. After a moment's pause, he added on "He was too scared to come see you in your condition, but… Sam helped me make them for you."

She wanted to smile when the relief washed over her from hearing Sam was OK, but all she could manage was a twitch of her lips. She imagined he saw it; the boy was too watchful to miss anything.

She smelled the assortment of flowers Maggie had gathered in her room. They were a welcome change to the room's odorous concoction of bleach, mothballs, and disinfectant. Maggie had sat with her for a while; she told Carol about the pregnancy, about Glenn's MIA status, and then recited a prayer thanking God for Carol's recovery and a plea for Glenn's safe return.

But the thing Carol could sense more than any other was _his_ presence. He sat on her right side for what seemed like hours, nonstop, on her end (Rick and Michonne had visited twice while she came in and out of consciousness.)

He was there when her brain turned back on, and he was there when her mind started getting fuzzy and senses became blurry.

She strained her eyes to open a sliver, and an onslaught of bright white flooded her vision. She closed her eyes and groaned in pain at the pulverizing the light was doing to her retinas.

She heard Daryl lurch forward and ask with concern "You okay? What's wrong?"

"Light…too bright." She managed. ' _Oh God, I sound like the crypt keeper.'_ She thought to herself when she heard her own voice.

Daryl let out a breath of relief and leaned back in his chair. "Don't do shit like that." He said halfheartedly.

"Sorry…Pookie." She smirked, since that was all she could manage at the moment. He snorted humorously in response.

After a few minutes and efforts to clear her throat, Carol tried her hand at talking once more. "These painkillers…are _amazing._ " She attempted to lighten the mood some more.

He was silent in response, but she could feel his stance relax the more she talked. After another minute, his deep voice grunted out "I need to stop leavin'." She could imagine his posture as he spoke to her. He probably had his eyes covered by his bangs and she guessed he was anxiously biting his lip and wringing his hands.

"I'm invincible." Carol would've shrugged if she could. "Don't worry about me."

"That's the thing." He was probably looking at her now, quiet and serious as always. "You ain't. When I'm out, I think about all the shit you're getting into back home." She would've laughed there. Her near death encounters _were_ starting to hit double digits. "One of these days, I ain't gonna make it back. Or worse; I will and you're gonna…"

"Hey." She wiggled her fingers, and extended her arm towards him the same way she had after Merle's passing. He held her hand automatically; his grasp was too gentle, like she was as delicate as tissue paper right now. She managed to open her eyes—she _had_ to look at him when she told him this.

Yep, looking at her and biting his lip. Like she knew he would be.

"We have now."


End file.
